Chapitre 230: HPWW 15-20
Chapter 015
"I was forced by Dumbledore to remain with my muggle relatives for almost eight weeks - and it was forced, as I truly had no desire to be there and believed I had nowhere else to go - until I was picked up by Arthur Weasley and his boys and was taken to their home, The Burrow, in Ottery Saint Catchpole about a week after my birthday."
Memory-Harry paused for a moment before he continued. "I stayed with the Weasleys for the last few weeks of the summer break. And, yes, as everyone no doubt knows by now, I did attend the World Cup. By now, everyone has a... belief... as to what happened a couple hours after the Cup finished.
"As per usual, your belief has been skewed by outside forces; forces, that don't want you to know the truth. The Ministry don't want you to know the truth because they'd rather you be ill-informed and happy, than properly informed and worried. Here's what happened according to my memories of the event."
Memory-Harry faded out and the next memory started. Just as Memory-Harry attested, the memory showed what happened after the Cup from the point of Harry being woken to when they finally returned to the tent. Then returned to Memory-Harry.
"And that brought us up to returning to here, Hogwarts, on the First," said Memory-Harry.
He paused for a long moment before his expression turned almost feral as his posture shifted until he stood more upright, more proud. And he smirked.
It gave him an appearance none of them had seen of him before. It was quite pureblood in appearance, the way he stood. Those who had met James Potter while he was alive immediately recognised it. Here stood a true Potter.
From where he still sat in the VIP and judges area and unable to do anything, as soon as he saw the shift in Harry's demeanour, stance and saw the expression on the boy's face, Dumbledore felt a moment of prescience as dread passed through his veins. And he shuddered in fear as to what it meant.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Back in the arena Memory-Harry 'looked' up to the VIP stand and spoke in a voice that exuded confidence, authority and power. "Madam Bones, if you haven't already guessed, now is the time to keep your attention focussed on Dumbledore. He's about to hear information that will show him he has greatly underestimated me. The information you are all about to hear, especially him, will show just how badly I've been underestimated by everyone. The information I'm about to impart upon you all will completely change your world-view of both myself and events that have surrounded me.
"Many of you will have a hard time believing what I'm about to tell you; and, via memories, show you. At this time I remind you that I - or, rather, Harry down there..." and gestured to where Real-Harry was apparently still reading a novel as he relaxed on the sun lounge, "... Swore a magical oath on his magic, his life and his very soul that what memories you are shown through this pensieve are a true and accurate account."
Again Memory-Harry paused for a long moment.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Meanwhile, up in the stands, everyone remained completely silent. Though they'd now been sitting there for over two hours, no one wanted to leave. They all instinctively understood that what they were about to learn would be true; and, would indeed, shake the foundations of their beliefs.
Even though Potter had threatened them with stripping them of their magic if they so much as made too much noise, they now no longer cared. No one wanted to miss what would happen next.
Very few gave any thought any longer to there still being a Hungarian Horntail dragon at the other end of the arena. The dragon was now lying in wary repose, curled up as close as it could get to its nest while keeping an eye on the little human wizard at the other end with its magical device showing scenes of different things. Soon after it entered the little wizard made no moves towards it or its eggs, so it made no aggressive moves back. It would conserve its energy for if it would be needed later.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Memory-Harry held the smirk and the apparent stare at the VIP stand for a long couple of seconds before he began to speak again.
"'Everyone knows' is a term I hear far too many wizards and witches say," he said. "Everyone knows what befell the Potters in Godric's Hollow on the evening of the thirty-first of October, 1981. Everyone knows the Killing Curse rips the soul from the victim, while also leaving no mark upon the victim's body. Everyone knows Sirius Black betrayed them, led He-Who to their cottage, then went on to kill Peter Pettigrew and a dozen muggles a few days later. Everyone knows―"
He gave a snort and said, "But I know that everyone is wrong!
"I've already shown you evidence that Peter Pettigrew is alive... or, was at least alive on the ninth of June, earlier this year. At that same time I also showed you that Sirius Black is completely innocent of the crimes for which he was dumped into Azkaban without even a trial. So, that shows you quite a significant portion of what you believe to have happened that night in Godric's Hollow - and what happened a few days later regarding the supposed death of Peter Pettigrew and those muggles - is wrong. You now know that what 'everyone knows' is wrong. It is a lie!
"Now for the second point I raised; that 'everyone knows' the Killing Curse rips the soul from the body.
"Well... news flash, people: that's not true, either."
Memory-Harry gave that a while to sink into the consciousness of 'his' audience before he continued. And, just as Harry thought it would, it caused a mass gasp of shock and surprise among those watching from the stands.
"You, see," he began again, "What the Killing Curse does is strip the mind of every piece of knowledge. It wipes the mind bank - including all the autonomic systems. The brain forgets to send the information it needs to run the automatic biological systems; the heart to pump, the diaphragm to cause the lungs to regularly inflate and deflate, the stomach and intestines to process food and waste, the consciousness to receive information from the five senses, etcetera. Without the heart beating, without the lungs pumping, the body dies.
"In pure essence, the Killing Curse is nothing more than a very high powered Obliviation charm. That's why the Killing Curse, just like the Obliviation charm, leaves no physical mark on the body.
"And it's that knowledge that leads to the answer - the riddle, if you will, that has plagued the wizarding world since that horrid night - as to why I managed to survive being hit with the Killing Curse."
Again he paused and smirked, before aiming that smirk directly at the VIP seats.
"You see," he began as his smirk widened into a grin, "I'm immune to any and all mind-controlling magic; including the Killing Curse, the Confundus Charm, other Compulsion Charms and... the Obliviation Charm."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Up in the stand Dumbledore gave a physical start, which had Bones again firmly jab her wand tip into the back of his neck. He didn't even feel it.
'Oh, shyte!' he thought, as all colour drained from his face and he began to feel quite sick and faint.
He now knew what the Potter boy's plan was. Though loathe to, he had to admit it was brilliant.
Harry Potter: The Witty Wizard
3 days ago
Chapter 016
Still smirking in the direction of the VIP stand, Memory-Harry continued.
"You've now seen all the information about what has happened over the past three years that is otherwise public information; if anyone had bothered to go and look for it," he said. "Now, I'm going to show you memories that hold information that Dumbledore - your so-called Leader of the Light - has worked hard to keep hidden. If you haven't already figured it out, your so-called Leader of the Light isn't as 'light' as he would have everyone believe.
"First, we go back down the memory lane of my memories, back to when I was a small child. Then, we'll work our way forward again.
"This first memory was from when I was about five years old. But first, as you don't know who all the 'players' are, I'll set the scene for you.
"The overweight fat middle-aged male muggle is my Uncle, Vernon Dursley. The skinny horse-necked middle-aged female muggle is my aunt, Petunia Dursley. She's the older sister of my mother, Lily Potter née Evans. And the overweight male muggle child is my cousin, Dudley Dursley; who is often called Duddikins, little Dudley-Wudley and other pet names.
"I give you full warning," he firmly stated. "This will be difficult for you to watch. If you have a weak fortitude - stomach - you might want to block your ears and turn away, or be violently ill."
He gave them a moment before he said, "Let's begin."
Memory-Harry faded out and a memory from when Harry was about five years old began to play. The scene was of the lounge at 4 Privet Drive.
Harry was cowering on the floor with Vernon towering over him at his full height; he was wielding a leather belt, angry and shouting. Petunia and Dudley were standing in the doorway to the dining room. Petunia was scowling at Harry while Dudley watched with glee.
Harry was pleading about how he didn't do it. That, whatever it was, was not his fault.
Vernon was shouting at him, calling him a freak and brandishing the belt, before he suddenly began thrashing Harry with it with his full weight behind each swing. The beating went on until Harry stopped writhing about and seemed to have fallen unconscious.
Then Vernon flung the belt to the side and began kicking the small boy hard enough to bodily lift him from the floor and throw him partway across the room. It would be considered a vicious beating on anyone, let alone a small child.
After a long few minutes of that, and when Harry appears unconscious, Vernon dragged him over to the cupboard under the stairs by his hair, and bodily threw him within before slamming the door shut; which then slammed back open again as the latch didn't catch.
There was only a long moment as Vernon turned to look at his family, his chest heaving with the results of the obvious exertion he put into the beating. Petunia gave a haughty sneer and was about to turn away as Dudley looked positively joyous at what he'd witnessed.
Suddenly, there was a crack of apparation as Dumbledore appeared in the middle of the lounge. He had also apparently side-along apparated Poppy Pomfrey, the school resident medi-wizard with him. As the Dursleys reeled back in shock Dumbledore appeared thunderous, while Pomfrey appeared confused.
"Poppy," Dumbledore firmly said, "You'll find young Harry inside the cupboard under the stairs."
With a gasp of horror, Pomfrey quickly hurried to the small cupboard, drawing her wand at the same time.
A quick duck down to her knees and she was then levitating Harry out. Levitating him no further than out onto the floor just outside the cupboard door she began her diagnostics.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was berating Vernon. "You disappoint me, Dursley." Spinning to glare at Petunia he said, "As for you, Petunia - as I have had to repeatedly remind you - Harry is of your blood! He is your only sister's son. Your responsibility is to his safety. When are you going to remember that?"
The scene suddenly paused and Memory-Harry quickly faded in. "Did you catch that? Did you catch what Dumbledore said? He said, 'As I have had to repeatedly remind you' - with emphasis on the 'repeatedly'. And listen to how, by their own words by both male adults, it is clear there was a number of times this sort of discussion was held in the past.
"That means Dumbledore had to have gone to the Dursley residence on quite a few occasions before what you're currently watching. And, in this memory, I'm only five years old."
Again Memory-Harry faded out and the paused memory returned. Suddenly, it restarted.
Neither Dursley replied until Vernon snarled, "Then take him! We don't want him here! When are you going to remember that?"
Dumbledore's mien took on a pained expression before he more quietly replied, "And I've repeatedly told you the boy needs to remain here for the blood wards to work. If the blood wards fall then you will no longer remain safe from... as you put it... freaks like me."
Vernon was about to angrily snap his next retort when Pomfrey piped up. "Albus, he has a great many injuries; not the least of which is three broken ribs and a severe concussion!"
"Do your best, Poppy," replied Dumbledore.
"I'll need to get him back to Hogwarts," she began.
"No," Dumbledore almost snapped back. "He must remain here."
When a horrified Pomfrey went to argue back he continued, "He must remain here for his safety. Heal him as well as you can and his magic will fix the rest."
"Albus!" she gasped back. "He's just a child!"
"Nevertheless, Poppy, he must remain here," replied Dumbledore. "Heal him the best you can and we must be leaving."
Clearly horrified by what she was hearing, Pomfrey healed young Harry as best she could.
By the time she was finished, clearly magically much weaker from the effort, Harry was quietly watching her work while keeping an eye on the others. He never made a peep of sound from his injuries, even when it was apparent he was in a great deal of pain.
When she was done, Dumbledore magically forced Harry and his relatives into a group in the middle of the lounge floor.
Chapter 017
Then he stunned Pomfrey before turning his wand on the four residents of Privet Drive. That had many in the audience gasp in shock.
A quick swipe of his wand and he called, "Obliviate!"
Once it appeared everyone was under the charm he said, "Young Harry was suitably punished by being locked back into his cupboard. I warned you, yet again, not to take things too far. There will be no further punishments for this incident."
Then he levitated Harry back into his cupboard.
He took a quick look about the room, bent his wand to Pomfrey, levitating her upright, before tucking her into his side with his off hand wrapped around her. A quick twist and he apparated away.
Then the memory ended with Memory-Harry putting in another appearance.
"There," he sighed. "Memory over. Have no fear that I'll show you another like that. However, that's only because I do not believe many of you will be anything but either unconscious or vomiting your insides up by the end of them, if I didn't. I know they're horrific.
"I'll also let you know that what you just saw was chosen because of how average it was for how I was treated there. There are quite a few times I was beaten almost as bad as that, and about an equal number of times I was beaten worse than that. They number well over a dozen.
"What I also want you to consider of what you just witnessed is that what you saw was of my memories. And, I also want you to consider that the only way I could have that as my memory was for me to be conscious the entire time. I was awake for the entirety of that. In other words, I was feigning being unconscious when I was thrown into the cupboard."
That had quite a few audible gasps of shock from the audience.
"It was something I figured out when I was younger than that," continued Memory-Harry, as if he hadn't heard it. "If I appear to be unconscious then the beating wouldn't be as bad. Vernon thought a beating wasn't as effective if I wasn't awake to... enjoy it.
"As you saw, Dumbledore was fully aware of how I was being treated by the Dursleys. And, as he claimed magical guardianship over me, it was his responsibility to ensure I would not and wasn't treated like that.
"Dumbledore not only did nothing to stop the beatings, he also modified the memories of everyone - he thought - so the Dursleys had little idea all their beatings of me were known about by Dumbledore. If the Dursleys had known, even once, that Dumbledore was directly monitoring every situation, as he clearly was, then I believe I never would have been beaten as much as I was.
"So, in case you're all as stupid as I think you are, I'll explain it to you. Albus Dumbledore is blatantly guilty of the crimes of child endangerment, child abuse physical by proxy, child abuse psychological, child abuse psychological by proxy, child neglect, child neglect by proxy and a host of other despicable crimes relating to a child. And he did all this while acting as my supposed Wizengamot-appointed magical guardian, while Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, while Headmaster of Hogwarts - where he's in charge of almost four hundred other children - while Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and while everyone believed him to be the Leader of the Light."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Up in the VIP section, where she still had the tip of her wand pressed into Dumbledore's neck about an inch behind his left external carotid artery, Bones was fuming. One minor piercing curse, let alone a blasting hex, and the old man would be dead in only a few seconds, if that.
However, even she was paying little to no attention to that. What Harry had just shown down on the floor of the other end of the arena, had her blanch. When he stated how it was his memory, and that he had to have been conscious to actually have it, once she realised he was right even had her at the point where she wanted to do nothing more than to turn her head to the side, bend forward and vomit. It was only through a force of her own indomitable will she did not succumb. Many in the audience, including some within the VIP section, weren't so lucky. She could hear them retching from where she sat, and smell the results only moments later.
Finally, she leaned forward and whisper-snarled into the old man's ear, "Try something, Dumbledore. Please, try something. Just one little twitch is all I need. Just give me the excuse I need to blow your fucking head off; right here, right now. With the evidence Mister Potter clearly has for me no court would ever convict me."
Dumbledore refused to even breathe, so still he sat.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
"But!" continued Memory-Harry, instantly dragging everyone's attention back to him. "But... I did not show you that memory to show you to what despicable lengths my so-called uncle would go when I displayed incidences of, as he put it, my freakishness. I showed you that memory to show you to what despicable lengths Dumbledore would go to make sure I lived there!
"That shows you why Dumbledore had no problem forcing me to go back there during the summers between my first, second, third and fourth years of Hogwarts. Plus, it shows you Dumbledore is that despicable he would use a memory modification charm on both muggles and on a five year old wizard who he'd only just been told was suffering from a concussion!"
"In my possession are another more than dozen memories of mine that show Dumbledore turning up... sometimes bringing Pomfrey with him, sometimes not... berating the Dursleys for their behaviour, healing me or having Pomfrey do it, Obliviating everyone and leaving again. So, it wasn't a one-off incident you all witnessed. I also remember there being times when Vernon actually did beat me unconscious and my waking up some time later with all, or almost all, my injuries healed. Once I learned what magical healing was like, I recognised that's what had happened during those times.
Chapter 018
"You also need to understand that, at the time, I had no idea it was Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey that were apparating in after Vernon went too far and beat me too much. All I knew was that an old man called 'Albus' with long white hair and beard, who wore what looked to me like a gaudy dressing gown, would arrive out of thin air with a sound like a gun shot. Sometimes he would bring a lady a little older than my aunt and uncle who dressed in what appeared to be an old style nurse's uniform, and sometimes not. I also quickly realised the lady in the nurse's uniform - 'Poppy', as the old man called her - wouldn't recognise me from one visit to the next. She also acted as if she was meeting me for the first time.
"I knew from when I asked a teacher at school, that's muggle primary school, what the word 'Obliviate' meant. The closest I could find in the dictionary was that it meant to erase from existence, to wipe clean. And that told me the old man, 'Albus', was wiping Pomfrey's, my aunt's, uncle's and cousin's memory clean; and trying to do the same thing to me.
"If he was wiping everyone's memories away, I quickly realised that it would be a bad idea to let the old man know that I could remember both of them from their previous visits. The old man would wave that stick of his at us, firmly call out 'Obliviate!', a light-blue light would shoot out of it and hit us, I'd feel all wooly-headed for about the next one or two minutes, then everything would come flooding back."
Again, Memory-Harry smirked towards the VIP stands. "And, by then, I had already become a good enough actor to fool the old man. It was something I never stopped doing. As you will see a little later."
Memory-Harry gave a snort of amusement before he changed the subject. "About a week before my eleventh birthday I received my first acceptance letter to Hogwarts. But, I couldn't accept; because, as soon as the letters began to arrive, Vernon was collecting them and burning them.
"And, yes; I said 'them', meaning 'plural'. I received one on the first day, one on the second day, three the day after that, the next day I received twelve, on the fifth day I received twenty four, on the sixth day - the Sunday - about thirty to forty arrived, and on the seventh day well over one hundred arrived. At one minute past midnight the next morning, Rubeus Hagrid turns up to hand-deliver my invitation letter.
"Now, think about that; wizarding mail is delivered by owl. Think about how many owls had to have been flying into the muggle world to deliver mail to me; especially on the sixth and seventh day. Think about how many owls that would have to have meant were waiting just outside - perched on branches, fences and the like - to deliver that mail; each with a letter in its beak or tied to its leg. Would that not be a breach of the Statute of Secrecy? And this was forced, knowingly, to occur under the direction of Albus Dumbledore.
"That's yet another crime willingly committed by the so-called Leader of the Light. And this time it was breaching the law set in place centuries ago to protect the wizarding world.
"Anyways," he sighed, "Hagrid collects me on the evening of the tenth day, we head for Diagon Alley the next morning, my eleventh birthday. I learn about having a trust vault at Gringotts, get some galleons out to buy my school supplies and shop.
"As soon as we're finished, Hagrid hustles me off to the Underground and sends me back to the Dursleys.
"For the entire month of August the Dursleys - all three of them - pretend I don't even exist." Memory-Harry gave a long, drawn out sigh of bliss and added, "It was won-der-ful!
"And, why did they leave me alone?" he asked. "It's because, this time they had kept their memories of just how close the wizarding world was watching me." He sighed. "I was then left to wonder just how much of that abuse I suffered I wouldn't have suffered if Dumbledore hadn't kept Obliviating the Dursleys."
Coming back to himself he continued, "However, during that time I was not idle. Hagrid had told me a little bit about the truth surrounding my parents and their deaths, a fair bit about Hogwarts, and very little about anything else. But one of the nuggets of information he did share with me had to do with the Houses of Hogwarts. And I made sure to grab a book on Hogwarts and another on recent wizarding history from Flourish and Blotts while I was there.
"So, during the month of August, while the Dursleys were ignoring me, I read. I read about the four Houses and of how the students are sorted into each. I read how the method by which students are sorted was based on that young witch's or wizard's character - and grew quite concerned. I knew I was destined for Slytherin if I didn't figure out a way to change it.
"Oh, yes," he suddenly said. "Based on what Hagrid had told me, and after meeting Draco Malfoy in Madam Malkin's that day Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, I had already reached the decision I did not want to end up in Slytherin.
"And why did I decide I didn't want to end up in Slytherin?" he rhetorically asked. "Not just because of what Hagrid had told me about my parents; and not just because of the behaviour of Draco Malfoy, either. No. It's because of the ideals each of the Houses are supposed to prize the most."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Up in the Slytherin section of the stands around the arena, Draco Malfoy scowled back. Because of his own focus, glaring in hate back at Harry, he was unaware many of his housemates took their own moments to glare at him.
While he didn't think Potter was worthy of being a Slytherin, there were many more of Slytherin House who would have been quite proud to have him in their House. And they all now knew Malfoy was partly responsible for him not being there.
Well, that's what they thought - for now.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
"And, why did I believe I was going to end up in Slytherin, you may ask? It's because of my upbringing. Anyone who understands child psychology - that is how a child grows to think based on their home life - will already know that a child that is raised in the sort of home environment in which I was raised would make perfect little Slytherins.
"A child raised in a similar environment to the one in which I was raised would grow up cunning, sly, secretive, would employ guile, almost instinctively negotiate for a better position in life, plan moves in advance, consider risks in advance. In other words, as I said, a perfect little Slytherin. Without their knowing they did it, the Dursleys raised me as a perfect little Slytherin - a true Slytherin.
Chapter 019
"I figured that out weeks before I arrived at Hogwarts, within hours of cracking open the book on the history of the school. So, I had to bend my mind to figuring out how not to be sorted into Slytherin, as I should have been.
"As the story goes, Slytherin cherished those who employed cunning and guile to achieve their ends. These days many think that also means ambition; it does not. At least, not alone. All four founders cherished ambition, not just Slytherin. Therefore, the Hat does not take how ambitious a new student is to determine into which House the child would be sorted. So, I did not have to worry about the Hat considering me ambitious.
"I began to plan. First, I had to think about what the two words, 'cunning' and 'guile', actually meant. For those who do not know, the definition of 'cunning' is the employment of a skill in a shrewd or sly manner; and 'guile' means crafty or artful deception. Once I had those definitions I knew how I could argue my way out of being sorted into the House of the Serpent.
"You see, by the very definitions of 'cunning' and 'guile' I knew I had the means in which to argue the best House for a true Slytherin was to be sorted into any House but Slytherin." He paused to give a chuckle. "Think about it. How guileful is it to be sorted into Slytherin when you're a true Slytherin? Where's the craftiness?... the insidious cunning?... the artful deception? A true Slytherin would do everything they could not to be publicly labelled as such."
That had most of the students in Slytherin, together with the alumni of that House, who had come down to watch the task almost all collectively scowling in annoyance.
"On the First of September I bumped into the Weasleys at Kings Cross. Hagrid, for all his good intentions, had forgotten to tell me how to get onto Platform nine and three-quarters. With only a few minutes until the train left the station - and me in a near panic - that's when I heard Molly Weasley doing her best to break the Statute of Secrecy. Whether that was out of malice aforethought, ignorance or just plain stupidity, I do not know. On the muggle side, she was crying out to her own children in a shrill voice words along the lines of, 'Look at all these muggles! What's the number of the platform again, dear?' And a ten year old Ginny Weasley calling back, 'nine and three-quarters, Mum!'"
With a sigh, he continued, "Irrespective of the probable breach of the Statute, Molly Weasley gave me the knowledge of how to get onto the platform. If it wasn't for her I'd have never found the platform in time, if at all.
"Once on the train, Ron Weasley found me in a compartment on my own. When the subject of Houses came up, he then gave his very biased opinion about them. It was from that conversation, added to what I'd heard from Hagrid back on that day in the Alley, that I had my answer as to where I would try to convince whoever it was that did the sorting, where I was to be sorted. Remember; I still did not know the sorting was done by a magical talking hat that could read minds.
"It was while on that train ride I finally learned of the full identity of 'Albus', the old man with the long white hair and beard. I got a Chocolate Frog card of Albus Dumbledore. I had finally learned that the old man who kept trying to wipe away my memories was also the same old man who would be my new Headmaster. I almost panicked, right then and there.
"We arrived at Hogwarts, received a talk from Minerva McGonagall - where she effectively lied to us and told us our House would be like our family - and were then escorted by her into the Great Hall.
"As the Hat gave its little tale expressed in doggerel verse, I learned how the Hat would sort me. And I also physically breathed a sigh of relief when I learned it would not relate what it would learn out of my mind to anyone.
"Almost immediately after the Hat was placed on my head it wanted to sort me into Slytherin. 'In Slytherin you would be great, you know', the Hat said to me. However, I was determined to go to the one House where a true Slytherin would never be expected to be sorted - Gryffindor.
"For those of you who were there and remember that night, that's why my sorting was one of the longest in history. It took me almost the entire time I was under the Hat for me to convince it to sort me into the House of red and gold. Finally, it recognised my determination, ceded to my wishes and sorted me into Gryffindor. I have never had to argue for something I wanted so hard in my life!
"Now, you might wonder why I chose Gryffindor; and not another House such as Ravenclaw. The answer is quite simple. When people are presented with evidence of something they expect, they never question it. If I had been sorted into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, questions would have been asked of why. I'd have been questioned about my sorting, questions would be asked of others who would also then ask me directly. However, as people expected me to be sorted into Gryffindor, no one wondered why; and, therefore, no one asked why."
With a smirk on his face, he gave that a moment to sink in; and for the audience to understand what he'd done.
"So, here I was, a newly minted Gryffindor who was expected to be a Gryffindor, while all along I was really a Slytherin in disguise." He gave a low, almost evil chuckle.
"From then on it was easy. I just had to behave pretty much like I was expected to behave. And just bide my time while trying to stay under the radar, as the muggles would say, until I finished my schooling." He gave another snort of amusement. "Like, that was ever going to happen."
"Basically, from day one in First Year I figured out Ronald Bloody Weasley was going to prove to be nothing but an anchor around my neck. However, I had to 'allow' him to hang around me because, if I'd broken things off with him, Dumbledore would have come sniffing around to find out why.
"From what I've now come to believe, though I have no evidence to support that belief, the first meetings with Weasley at Kings Cross Station and on the Hogwarts Express were somewhat engineered for me and Weasley to meet; and for us to become friends. However, after arriving here at the school, I quickly learned that boy is nothing but an indolent, bigoted, gluttonous git."
Chapter 020
Up in the stands - where he was sitting near Hermione, but not next to her - Ron Weasley flushed with anger. It did not help that his housemates sitting near him were now attempting to slide away from him, as if he was diseased.
'Dumbledore's gonna be pissed!' he thought. 'Bloody Potter.'
It had not occurred to him, and likely never would, that Dumbledore had far bigger problems than worrying that his little spy on Potter would now be pretty much worthless; or, that he had ever truly been of worth.
Hermione was staring at her best friend in awe as he systematically tore down the staff of Hogwarts. As she had been with him for all of the events he spoke about since his arrival, she knew she was in the unique position to know precisely what he was talking about.
Now that Harry had effectively already torn down Headmaster Dumbledore and Professors McGonagall, Snape, Moody and Hagrid, she wondered what was coming next.
She even spent time paying a little attention to the aurors who were heading off as Harry brought to light more truths. It was no challenge for one with her intellect to deduce they were being sent off to arrest people - all of which were those aforementioned.
And she knew Harry wasn't done yet.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
"My second major misdirection was something I had to employ while at the Dursleys. I had to show myself to be academically somewhat below average," he explained.
"Dudley was a pretty piss-poor student. And, if I ever brought home marks that showed me to be a better student than Vernon and Petunia's little angel, I would get punished. Because, according to them, it meant I had to be cheating.
"So, by the time I started at Hogwarts, I was very good at being able to write my assignments, answer my tests and similar to score just behind my fat baby whale of a cousin. As I figured out Weasley seemed determined to keep me performing sub-par academically, it was easy for me to shape things to seem like I just went along with it. After all, I still didn't know if the incident involving Weasley meeting me on the platform at Kings Cross and Dumbledore's behaviour towards me were or were not somehow linked.
"Because she's been such a good friend, and thought she was trying to help me with studying better, I owe Hermione Granger a major apology. It took me a little while to determine that, unlike Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger honestly did have my best interests at heart. Weasley, just like pretty much everyone else in the wizarding world, sees me as 'The Boy Who Lived'. Hermione sees me as 'Just Harry'. And, I have to say, I love her for it."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Hermione dropped her head in embarrassment and blushed. It was the first time her friend had actually shown he truly cared. And, to have done it in such a public environment, had her feel deep joy inside.
It was not until that very moment that Hermione Granger realised she just might love Harry Potter.
But, while Harry loved Hermione, he thought he loved her like a little brother loved his big sister; not the romantic sort with which Hermione thought she might love Harry.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Memory-Harry had only paused for a few moments before he began again. "About a month after I started at Hogwarts I managed to track down a book on Mind Magics. And that led me to tracking down a book on Occlumency.
"Both books I asked a seventh year 'Puff to check out for me, who was happy to do so. My explanation for her was that I didn't want my 'lazy' friend questioning me on why I was reading up on the subject. I was having a hard enough time dodging the git's constant begging of me to play chess and or skiving off with him, instead of studying.
"As for Ronald Weasley, here was a boy who was the sixth and youngest son of a family of seven children, whose family was not that flush with money, whose family had to work hard to save enough money to put together the tuition needed to send him and his siblings to Hogwarts, whose family did so in the belief of ensuring him the best chance at a good future, and who spends almost the entirety of this... gift... doing his level best to get out of studying and, instead, want only to talk and read about Quidditch and play chess.
"In other words, Ron Weasley's family have worked damned hard, and continue to work damned hard, to send him to the supposed best school of magic in magical Britain to give him an excellent start in life. And his way of thanking them for their effort is to deliberately piss it all away." He then sighed as if in disappointment.
"I wonder what their reaction would be if someone were to actually go and tell them the truth of their youngest son's behaviour in school," he continued. "Mind you, that's exactly what his school Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, is supposed to have done. I bet she's completely ignored that part of her responsibility, and not."
If Minerva McGonagall was within hearing range she'd have almost died in embarrassment. However, as she was already being 'detained' by aurors outside of the arena while they awaited further orders from their boss, she was not aware of Harry's words.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
"I've already shown you what should be known to anyone of what happened in my first year, the 1991-92 school year. But there's more only myself and Dumbledore know. That is, what Dumbledore thought only he knew, due to his judicious use of memory charms.
"It was in late October, shortly before Hallowe'en, I figured out Quirinus Quirrell was being possessed. At the time I did not know the identity of the malevolent spirit inhabiting him; though, I had a pretty good idea.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone